


The Hunger Within

by From Ashes (CrierPsycho)



Category: Loki - Fandom, Marvel
Genre: Actor Tom Hiddleston, F/M, Fanfiction, Forbidden Love, God(dess) of Mischief, Lemon, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-08-07
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrierPsycho/pseuds/From%20Ashes
Summary: Nmyr is a mere astronomer dedicating her life to the study of the charts.  Yet things drastically change when the prince of Asgard waltzes into her life.  Crude words berate her, warn her- yet she goes to him all the same.  Will Nmyr survive the night?  Or is her folly food for the hunger that lies within?





	1. Wolf and the Hare

**Author's Note:**

> 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞: 𝐍𝐦𝐲𝐫 
> 
> Nmyr: Pronounced Na-mere.
> 
> The main character, besides Loki, is Nmyr- a hard working student at the school of astronomy on Asgard. The two characters meet perchance while Loki frequents the school for their vast selection on celestial knowledge.
> 
> Nmyr is not of royal blood and is caught within the social rift. She is conservative and minds her manners, especially before the eyes of the prince. 
> 
> *Note* This story has gone through some loops, but I've decided the first chapter or two will be centering around Nmyr, while the other chapters respectively are in either Loki or Nmyr's pov. That way as the reader you can receive insight on what both characters are feeling while they themselves know not what the other does. I'll state at the beginning of the chapter when that switch happens. 
> 
> Also, be warned. Stuff gets real. Please don't read if you're a young un'.
> 
> Visit my wattpad page to view character art of Nmyr in the character Profile chapter ---> https://www.wattpad.com/user/CrierPsycho
> 
> Hope you enjoy the story, you dirty mongrels you. >;^)
> 
> © All Rights Reserved

The flames slowly licked the air. Crackling rhythmically- never missing a beat. Her eyes wandered cautiously about the richly decorated room. Lavish reds made themselves known in the bold Asgardian tapestries and upholsteries. Yet there harbored a chilling darkness to the atmosphere. She noticed how the color black almost consumed the daring red. The young woman swallowed. There was clearly a difference in taste between the two brothers; it was as if the one was discreetly rebelling just in the way he decorated his quarters.

The day had taken quite a turn in contrast to the droll routine every passing week had to offer. She remained taken aback with disbelief at the invitation to the Prince of Asgard's living quarters, despite their previous interactions gradually leading up to this moment. What exactly was it that struck interest in him towards the painstakingly ordinary girl? She was a commoner. A peasant in comparison to a golden crown adorned royalty-and a god, nonetheless. Loki, God of Mischief. That title didn't paint the same portrait to her as it did the other Asgardians. He had somewhat humbled himself as a gentleman for her in particular. She felt nothing like a commoner with the treatment received by him.

'Be careful,' she heard the memory of friends' whispers in her reluctant ear. 'He's the God of Mischief. A snake. If you lack caution he could strike at any given moment.'

Some still envied the attention she received from the Prince. "Commoner," they spat acid doused curses at her, and daggers with their eyes. The disgust only harshly reminded her of her position. Know your place, it chided. Yet here she stood in the vast chamber of the great mischievous wolf, garbed in the most expensive attire her budget could afford.

Green velvet hugged her slimly curved figure and suspended just above her ankles. A single slit climbed all the way to the base of her left hip, revealing a dauntingly slender leg. That feature went against her modest nature, although the top of the dress expressed it quite well. Cleavage had been concealed by the cloth, and the straps laid in submission just off of the shoulders; sleeves loosely draped along the arms. On each wrist clasped a thin cuff ornamented like vines and floral arrangements, with clear crystals nestled elegantly along the golden wiring. The same went for her necklace, which bore an emerald jewel resting snug upon her chest. Her shoes matched, that rose gold film scattered with pastel shards like the heavens on her heels. Their reflections glistened against the fire's faint luminescence.

His absence left her with raging thoughts of how these sudden events came to be. Their talk at the grand observatory only consisted of stars and the vast universe. No talk of love or affections ever trickled into their discussions, although her heart never failed to thud against her chest every time their eyes met. Green, like the dress clinging to her feeble frame. The gaze always seemed to wrap itself around her just like that. Ensnaring.

Just then, sudden shuffling filled the void. The hairs on her neck rose as if on cue. The supposedly devious snake stepped out in a delicately embroidered silks that loosely hugged his frame. His bare feet trodden across the timeless marble floors. Pale skin peeked out of the past time raiment; the faint rays of the setting sun reflected off his still damp skin. His obsidian hair gleamed in the dim light, slicked back with water from the recent shower, yet some untamed strands defiantly swept over his brow. Her chest tightened.

In an anxious attempt to avoid meeting the Highness's eyes, her perspective mistakenly shifted to that of a slightly exposed chest; few drops of water tauntingly beading down before they disappeared behind the silk garment. The shock averted her eyes up to the face futile attempts tried to avoid this whole time. That familiar wry smile tilting at the lips greeted her along with an innocent expression, just like a child deviously lying to their parents in order to avoid punishment, because they know full well that blameless stare will let them get away with anything.

"Care for some mulled wine, my dear?" The question fell upon almost deaf ears as it took a moment to revert back to the present and process what he had asked. Looking up, she found the God of Mischief no more than few feet from herself at a small circular table, pouring a scintillating drink into two fine chalices. Mesmerized by the enchanting, yet simplistic ritual, she barley managed a soft yes, but was affirmed by the gentle nod of her head. The faintest of smirks met his perfect lips. His eyes had moved and briefly caught hers, but just as soon as they had met, his had departed and returned to the glasses.

"I found this particular remedy on one of my endeavors to earth. It has a mild taste compared to our own refinements, but I've become quite attached to its spring flavor." His dainty yet masculine hand grasped his sleeve as he finished pouring the drinks.

Red wine, a taste she had never fared, for the poor could not relish in such wealthy pleasures. Were the burgundy fermented grapes as sweet as they say? Her curiosity inclined her to take a sip; lips slightly pressed for it was more pungent than she had envisioned, yet their was a smooth and nutty flavor to it all the same. "It's quite a different taste, but in a good way," she hoped she hadn't offend her host.

He didn't seem to mind, responding with a mere, "Indeed." His body had somehow managed to move a few inches closer without her realizing. Nerves instantly lighting up, she took another sip of the alcohol. Clearly done with his drink, the prince deliberately let go of the chalice. The glass swiftly sped to the floor. As soon as it fell from his grasp, her hand instinctively lunged out to catch the chalice in fear of it imploding, but rather, instead of it shattering into thousands of tiny fragments, it merely vanished. Plainly surprised, her eyes stared at the floor searching for an answer. Only to find a sudden emptiness had filled her own once full grasp. Nmyr looked at her hand for confirmation; her own drink had disappeared.

"Heh..." A low chuckle was the only answer to the mystery. Or perhaps it was a scoff at her stupidity? Before she could make up her mind, a hand positioned itself in her line of sight- beckoning for her to take it. Her mind hesitated, but only for a beat, as her curiosity in the man quickly took over as she accepted. But in a blink of the eye, the world completely shifted.

So instantaneous was the transition, that for a moment she hadn't even realized they had changed locations. Out of fear she dug her nails into his flesh, but notice she did not for the countless stars in the sky left her both in awe and startled. The shining orbs were high above, yet so close she felt as if she could almost reach up and touch them. Bellow her was the vast civilization of Asgard. Their home.

"I hope you don't mind, but the view is much better from my balcony." Reluctantly pulling her eyes away from the breathtaking view, she looked up at the body inches away from her own. His appearance was by far was the most captivating, for a faint light softly illuminated the outline of his presence, almost making it appear as if he was glowing. Was this dim blue his aura? Or perhaps, it was just the vast starlight playing tricks on her eyes. Either way, his raven hair shone deeply in the night, and his eyes left a mark on her soul.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat in a manner clearly trying to get her attention. The slight discomfort in his features and the direction of his eyes notioned her to see the damage being done by her hold on his hand.

"Oh!" Her grip quickly retracted upon the realization of her doing. She bowed to him with great embarrassment. "I apologize, your grace. Tremendously..." Little nail marks appeared on his perfect skin. "I didn't realize I was holding on so tight..." A sheepish blush washed over her features.

He waved his hand carelessly, "No matter. Besides, I can handle pain better than most think." Gazing down upon the girl, she saw something stir in his gaze. A shiver involuntarily ran down her spine. What had he meant by that? Her first thought was that he had been previously abused, striking great sorrow for the god. Yet she couldn't shake the feeling there was a glinted sadism hidden in that statement.

A chill breeze interrupted the moment, mischievous like the god of mischief himself, and shamelessly lifted up the ends of her dress and his robe. The wind had nudged the fabric of the dress just far enough for a hint of undergarments to become exposed, leaving her bare skin up for inspection. Instinctively turning his gaze towards the movement, his eyes settled upon her exposed leg. The feel of his gaze seemed almost like that of a single finger ghosting, as if she could physically feel his eyes roaming. In a flustered reaction, her hand rudely grouped the fabric together in attempt to prevent the chills from continuing up any further. Her body stiffened as the prince inched nearer, resting a hand possessively on top of her head. His voice, captivatingly low, drifted through the air and settled upon ears.

"No need to be ashamed dear one. There's no wrong in being proud of the body given to you." Leaning in, he moved his hand from Nmyr's head and dragged it along her cheek, stopping to brush her curled dark hair behind her ear. Bringing his voice down to a hauntingly seductive whisper, he said, "In fact, I think you quite liked it. I could feel your heart beating like a rabbit."

Her face instantly flamed red. The whispers sent heated shivers throughout the girl's body. At this point she was on the brink of sheer, virgin panic. No man had ever made such advances towards her, but she was almost certain she wasn't the first maiden to be swooned by the god. Briskly pulling away from his snare, she stepped back in a feeble attempt to distance yourself from the God of Mischief. The balcony rail held her prisoner.

"I-I think it best if I were to be leaving now, Your Highness. I'm sure you are quite busy, I shouldn't have disturbed you," she insisted with furiously reddened cheeks. She peered everywhere for an escape, yet there were none to be had; with him directly in front of her, any attempts were futile.

'He could strike at any given moment,' the whispers reminded her as she pressed hopelessly against the railing. She felt no different than a hare trapped in the snare of a wolf's jaws. Had the God of Mischief revealed his true colors?

He tilted his head back slightly at an angle and peered at the flustered woman. What did that expression mean? He slid his hands into the pockets of his robe. The slight weight of his hands moved the silks ever so slightly, revealing more of his chest.

"It's Loki."

Taken aback by his response, she couldn't help but furrow her brows in confusion. "Your Highness...?"

Noiselessly he walked closer to her, leaving a small gap of space in between. He repeated himself in a slightly louder, more definitive tone. "When it's just the two of us, I want you to call me Loki. Not Your Highness."

The prince's eyes studied her, waiting for a response. His words came at sort of a shock to Nmyr, for they were an assurance to feel not lowly, but on same social terms with him. Urging her to feel more welcome.

Nmyr shook her head, "While I appreciate the offer, I'm not worthy for such a position. I'm no better than a mere goat in your presence. You are royalty and I am the dirt..." A sigh heaved in her chest as her eyes waned away from him. "I know not why you would have any interest in me whatsoever. There are fairer maidens awaiting a prince like you to whisk them away. These clothes are not meant for me, nor this beautiful scenery from your balcony, and I certainly do not deserve to be endowed by those gorgeous jade green eyes of yours that shine like emeralds alone." With a knot heavy and weighing in the girl's heart, she turned away from him and looked up at the stars one more time. "Studying the universe... it made me understand that I am not only small here, I'm even smaller, everywhere... A speck of dust. How could someone like you even spot me floating around in this vast, star filled sea...?"


	2. The Chasm

With her back turned to him, she pondered what her skeptical words had stirred deep within the prince. Was he teeming with anger? Mockery? Or perhaps he was rue for even bothering with her. The foreboding seed only grew within her mid, until it almost consumed her entirety. Her heartstrings tugged at her faltering momentary self-confidence, beckoning for her petite frame to turn and steal a peek.

The hem of Nmyr's dress faintly ruffled with an eerie zephyr. The frigid wind danced about her ankles and fumbled with the ends of the costly gown, summoning goose bumps to the surface of her vulnerable skin. She felt as if she was weightlessly floating, yet she knew her feet were still firmly grounded.

Unable to stand the suspense any longer, she turned abruptly, only to meet cold leering eyes. The very emerald jewels she had come to care for over the past months had become complete strangers within a matter of mere minutes. As sharp as daggers and fiercer than any shade of green she had past witnessed- any sense of playfulness had been since striped of them.

These were the eyes of a man who didn't take kindly to being disobeyed.

The all-consuming aura was so bewitching her legs almost gave way; every muscle in her body quaked for her to kneel, and... she almost did. Hands clutching the railing tightly, Nmyr desperately shifted her weight against it supporting whatever little strength she had left.

"Why do you think I summoned you, if not for those very reasons? I chose to spend my time studying the charts alongside you not because you are a noble woman, or a common open ledger. But because your humility and intellect is refreshing." The prince's hair steadily levitated in a lethargic manor. Spreading his arms wide, he threw his head back vociferating to the heavens. "I can have the world yet what good would that do me!? Every day I have women throwing themselves at me, servants attending to me; but no one really is there." An overbearing silence riveted the balcony, rendering Nmyr speechless. The prince gradually turned his head to face her; body still turned towards the slumbering Asgard, he let his shoulders drop, returning his hands to their expectant sides.

The woman stood motionless, mulling over what the prince had exclaimed. Here was someone who had been promised overflowing riches since birth. Had he been searching for something more than a nugatory materialistic existence? Had the god, quite possibly, never experienced "love?"

At the very thought, her chest mirrored an icy feeling in which she suspected the man was well acquainted with, never truly breaking free from its hold. Desolation was an abyss she knew all too well... She surmised Loki was searching for the warmth within her soul, not mere lust or shallow wishes.

The prince turned his body to fully face Nmyr, yet looked off into the distance near her slender figure. Seemingly more to himself than her, he lowered his voice rendering barely audible, and whispered, "No one but you." It was in that instant Nmyr felt her resolve crumbling. That wasn't anger reflected off of his soul, that was a pure chasm of anguish.

An invisible longing tugged at her heart strings and pulled her towards the grieving prince. It panged like a fist clenching at the cavity as she took a step, then another. Her feet moved of their own accord, synced to the rhythmic drumming in her chest. Until she stood within a grasps reach of the very cause of her sleepless nights. Loki stared at Nmyr complexly, waiting for her to make a move. Slightly trembling, she outstretched her hand and gingerly grasped a handful of his robe. Then, resolve hardening, she slid her arms around the man and embraced him tenderly. The affectionate action ignited a warmth throughout her entire body, kindling like a nurtured flame. She desperately wished the warmth would reach him.

"I'll do anything to appease your pain; whatever you request of me... For to see you suffer is worse than a thousand deaths."


	3. Loki- The Pious and the Frank

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on the chapters are either going to be strictly in Loki or Nmyr's point of view. The title of the chapter will indicate which perspective it's in.

The stillness of the night enveloped his body, reminding him of how alone he truly was. Every tendon in his body yearned to just dissipate and forgot this folly he had dragged himself into. The shadows were where he belonged; he had spent too much time near the ardent rays of this youth, scorching his wings of hegemony.

Nmyr stood a few steps away, mind clearly whirring with all that he had declared. 'Great, now I've created a mute,' he scoffed to himself. Clearly the night had gone awry; every detail carefully calculated had instead been held over the flames of misjudgment and torched to dust. He truly never had intended her to respond so piously. Then again he hadn't intended on responding so blatantly frank himself. Years of frustration had seemingly just poured out, exposing the tip of the iceberg of his inner thoughts. However, admittedly this was the first time he had pinned to show more than the sovereign air he portrayed. She really had cast a veil over the god, ensnaring him, even if she hadn't intended to.

The girl looked up at the prince; their eyes met, desperately trying to convey their turbulent emotions. 'Now she's pitying me. How truly pathetic....,' his thoughts drifted to a more remorse place. He should have never let himself show the slightest bit of emotion. Years of layering facades all gone to waste just because he was feeling a little, what? 'Lonely?' Yet the desolation of being surrounded by thousands, but still solus had become overwhelming; he wasn't lying when he stated her company was, in fact, refreshing.

He averted his eyes and sighed inwardly. Nmyr really was the only one who had come to understand more of him than anyone else; or anyone he had let at that matter. His lips parted and greeted the eerie wind he had earlier summoned. Hushed, the words "No one but you..." broke the silence.

No matter how confused he had become over this woman, and appalled at himself, he did immensely regret forcing the will of submission over her. The prince knew not if she was aware that was even the reason she suddenly felt compelled to kneel, but he was glad she had resisted. For in that instant, she would have become just like everyone else. Stupidly obedient like a dog ready to please it's master.

Without any warning, a flash of roasted hazel whisked forwards. Loki instinctively tensed up, although to his surprise a feeble hand had found his lavish robes and gripped them. Her subtle features looked more sorrowful than he had expected. Before he could think of anything witty to say, thin arms wrapped themselves around his core. He stood frigid. What was this warmth within himself, spreading like a wildfire- almost consuming him entirely? A bleat from the heart carried by the air- he looked down to see the woman speaking. His heart of ice beat off tune. 

Her words had seemed so sincere, although how could he be sure? The court of Asgard was filled with liars by birth. Then again she wasn't a noble; she was a mere middle class studying the charts. She would have much to gain by cozying up to someone of royal lineage. 'I knew that when I asked her to join me in my quarters though... I knew the risks...'

He slowly lifted his arms and placed them on her shoulders, pulling her back slightly so they could look at each other with ease. His rough voice smoothly rolled off his tongue, "If you truly feel that way, then perhaps we can benefit one another." He reached up and lazily played with a silk curl, winding it around his finger. He mustn't become too transparent this time.


	4. Nmyr- Deal with the Devil

Amidst their momentary embrace, her mind whirred with turbulent emotions battling one another. Was she to keep her guard fortified, or lay to rest those walls of caution brought about by her friends' warnings? Although,their words were not the only sign of foreboding. Rumors - they tend to spread like epidemics, contagious pestilence seething from one mouth to another. At least, that was her view of them anyways. Rumors, like diseases, mutate and change into more corroding stages,to a point where relics have no effect on vanquishing its catastrophes. She knew how quickly reputations were thrashed to rags from gossip alone.

'Loki the traitor. Liar. Snake. Loki the untrustworthy vile God of evil,' his name was slandered yet still praised all the same, to where she could not distinguish truth from fables. Even upon her first-hand examinations,the god was undoubtedly difficult to decipher. However, the longer their interactions persisted, the more intent she was on studying his heart and mind. Faced with the biggest puzzle ever presented to the girl, it was impossible to resist an attempt at solving it. He was indeed like a map of the stars itself, ever changing; some bursting into nebulas, others being devoured into nothingness by black holes. . . yet all fascinatingly unpredictable.

Her eyes averted towards his, searching them once the man gently parted from the girl. 

"If you truly feel that way, then perhaps we can benefit another," his voice coaxed from the silence. The words were drenched in nectar, tempting the hummingbird to sip from its succulent flower. As an elegant finger snuck its way past her hair and curled an unsuspecting lock, a reluctant shudder bristled where a few strands stroked her right ear.

His offer paced through her mind with skeptical observation. Just what exactly had the girl gotten herself into? Fallen susceptible to the hound, 'I'll do anything for you' was no better than signing her soul off to the Devil himself. For a scholar, she was being quite pitifully naïve. Though, the surveying of his question became lost to the fixated gaze set upon her own eyes; a haze of a swirling emerald clouded her mind until all that was left of her thoughts had been transfixed. That enchanting green stare seemed to magnetically draw her in deeper; a hand blindly found its way to his cheek. Now on her toes, every muscle in her body inclined for a kiss. It was when their lips were but a centimeter from a virgin embrace that she came, misted, to her senses. As if awakening from a daydream like trance she drew away from his lips; a breath of warm anticipation lingering on his mouth before departure.

"I'm deeply sorry...how insolent of me." A rueful flush twinged at her face from the attempted action, although it didn't feel of her own volition, as if she had been under some sort of jinx. Yet she did yearn for it...terribly. For some reason, his eyes held a sort of gravity to them, and given the current circumstances, resisting the absent-minded urge of affection what his stare seemed to always rouse in the girl was far more strenuous an impulse to withstand. Although she was certain no sorcery was used to influence such longing, she was unmistakably charmed with desire.

Nmyr wondered where she was in Loki's mind, and along what path he was expecting this night to turn. His true intentions were restricted under the teeming leers of civilians. Perhaps that was the reason behind an invitation to his chambers, where they were shrouded by towering walls and elevated by the sky grazing height of the palace. There were certain intimacies that could not be uttered in public. Birds would flutter about, chirping secrets like flitting pigeons with sinful gossips strung to their breast. What would become of the girl if their affairs were to be discovered? 

As much fear as it brought about, it somewhat...thrilled her. Even schemes the god was no doubt plotting intrigued the adrenaline famished girl, who was already preparing herself for whatever threat may strike at her neck. Through this excitement, his proposal re-presented itself once again in her mind, whose answer had been impeded by the hypnotic episode.

"Beneficial..."she breathed in the half question. "What exactly is it you have in mind?" With profound effort she resisted the tugging on the corners of her mouth, inclining her to form a satisfied smirk. Instead Nmyr knitted her brows to appear rather scrutinized than pleased while watching the god intently for his response. It appeared that her undeniable interest in the God of Mischief would triumph over the countless omens of a condemned fate, bound by fraternizing with someone of such ill-spoken status. It was vain nonetheless, for if she had truly heeded their words, Nmyr would not have so eagerly accepted the Prince's summons.


	5. Loki- I Like Her Face Spotted With Red

He blinked. The gentleness of her eager breath tickled his full black lashes. Within the single beat of a fickle hummingbird's wings, had the girl stood on her toes and leaned in for a kiss. He waited-expectant. He had been here before. Yet he had never desired the affections of the women prior; in fact he had never desired any woman quite so thoroughly as this one. Yet their lips never met in twilight's first kiss, leaving him ungratified and uneasy.

He had never been rejected before, or at least in the sense he always received more or less what he coveted. Objects were always just the ring-of-a-bell away, while corporeal beings just somehow gravitated towards him without even exerting much of an assay. It truly was rare that he had to exact effort into acquiring company. Yet, that portion of his being was reserved for others, and would more than likely never receive that of which he yearned for most. His mind sped like the turbulent emotions of his soul; 'Is she one of them? Does she view me in the same light...?'

Clearly she had left herself shaken by her own actions. Lingering hesitation still a sign of hope, the god's heart raced with unfamiliar anxiety. He wished nothing more than to roughly reach out and claim her as his own, yet he promptly restrained himself, knowing full well what greed only brought him.

He shuddered; her pale skin shone with a rosy hue, painting her like a strawberry ready for picking. 'If only she would make up her involuted mind.' His thoughts conspired while he waited for her next course of action. Starved eyes pierced the veil she seemed to be struggling to uphold and scrutinized her thoroughly. 'I like her face spotted with red. It's... alluring,' the man concluded, pleased with himself. At least he still held some form of possession over her emotions. If he was still captivating her thoughts then there was but a chance his doltish attempts to sway her was not all in vain.

She looked back up at him, suddenly, and held his gaze true with her resolved eyes. His lips parted slightly, anticipating her answer.

Nmyr spoke, bidding him due tell what he had intended. Without hesitation his beguiling mouth formed into its all too familiar smirk as he grabbed her vulnerable wrist, exerting enough force as not to hurt her, yet still show his dominance all the same.

"This," sovereignty held in the air of his simplistic answer. She had finally bleated her answer, setting free the appetency that lived oppressed by the inanition of his strained existence.

Seconds after his response the matter around them dissipated and changed into pitch noir. He slid his hand around her waist, pressing his fingers slightly into her tantalizing skin. His other hand moved from her wrist up to her hand, warming the back of hers as he intertwined their fingers, holding them captive. In his precipitating forces he had swiftly managed to move behind the astronomer, precluding her any freedom. He then pressed his groin into the fullness of her butt; she was the perfect height. He had sensed her hunger- her eagerness for adrenaline within the hidden lines of her reply. He didn't blame her. She spent her day's locked away living the life of a scholar, hardly taking any risks.

His lips found one of her ears and whispered felicitously, "I can give you the greatest thrill of your life. You only have to share your time with me in return." This was his one attempt to procure that which he grievously yearned for; his one offer, and one request.

Growing up in a position of power that flourished best in the shadows, he knew better than most the importance of never repeating himself; there could be no holes in his authority, and none were ever given the chance to fabricate any.

But he couldn't ignore the simple facts laid out before him either. Nmyr's scent made his chest dance. It wasn't expensive and gaudy like the other women at court; it was... pure. And her careful and calculated oppositions only caused him to crave her further so. She was a match, if any, to his own carefully crafted person whom he controlled every action meticulously. She was in a sense the only thing, or to be more exact, woman, that posed a threat to his cool headed actions. And this in itself was drive enough for the god to break every rule of cast society.

'I swear on Odin's weathering vessel if this woman doesn't accept my offer I'm thrashing Thor.' The pent up worries of not knowing the causatum gnawed on his usually vast patience. He had to tread carefully, offering her what presumably her studiously weary heart desired, and therefore could not deny.

"I can create anything or any illusion, and with your vast knowledge of the stars, I can take you anywhere." He kept his voice low and smooth, hoping his breath would give her chills. "What do you say, Nmyr?" He spoke in a barely audible whisper that filled the sibylline void, "No one has to know."


End file.
